Fast French Friends and the Black Bird Guitar Dumpster Dive

I’d like to quote Miss Gooch to begin this post. “I just love how, ya know, how every day is like a new day. Ya know? You just wake up, and it’s a new day!”. Indeed, we awoke to a new day. We were not in Frisco anymore. We were on the move again! It felt so good to be back on the bikes heading south. After a night-cloaked desent down Devil’s Pass, we found safe slumber in a cute and cozy bed’n’breakfast in Halfmoon Bay, about 40 miles south of San Francisco. Our place for the night also came equipped with two hilarious Swiss travellers who tried to teach us how to say various bike phrases in Swiss-German.

So, our morning routine is pretty set by this point in our trip. We awake, fairly early, eat as soon as possible and as much as possible, take down our tents, put on our diaper shorts, apply our chamois cream, eat again, and get all our gear back on the bikes. Today’s morning had an interesting twist, though. A french twist, not to be confused with the hair-do made popular by business women in the 90-s. This French twist was much more fun than any hair-do, actually. Our morning routine was punctuated by confusing texts and accent laden phone conversations with Simon. Simon was the phone friendly partner of Hughes. You may be thinking….who under these stars, are Simon and Hughes. Good question.

If you can rewind with us Birds for a trip down memory lane, you will find four feathered females walking into the ‘R’ Bar in San Francisco to meet up with Hose’s brother and his girlfriend for her birthday bonanza. It was innocent. What was not innocent was two French-Canadian men at the bar still clad in bike spandex at 10:00pm. We of course had to talk bikes. There is a biker-bred friendship…a familial bond that exists which transforms strangers into comrades in mere minutes. This bond is made on the side of highways, in grocery stores, in campsites, and in this case, in a bar over tequila. Somewhere between stories of bike trips and dangerous shots, we had made a plan to ride south from San Francisco on Wednesday together with our two new French friends, Hughes and Simon.

So, here we are three days later, pedalling south towards our camp for the night at Pescadaro State Beach,  about 40 miles south. The plan was that we would ride until the two fast Frenchies catch up to the heavy bikes of the Birds’. We rode into a parking lot to gather some picknick recources and I spotted a UPS store. Should I mail my guitar? Oh, it had been so out of tune and cumbersome on the bike, but I loved it so. Confused as usual, I ambled over to ask how much it would cost for UPS to mail my stringed lover to San Diego. $70 bones! Wholy cow! That just is not in the budget. Not even a little. So, I decided to go dumpster diving in the rear of the grocery store the other Birds were loitering in front of. You see, the high price was because UPS would have to build a custom box for my guitar. So, with meat smelling boxes in tow, I went back to the UPS store. I serenaded the Ha(i)leys one last time and went to work. Goocher and I spliced together three meat smelling boxes into one glorious taped up and disfigured safety sheath for Black Bird Guitar. It may not have been pretty, but it cost me a cool $14 bucks to get my guitar safely to San Diego for my arrival in a month. Well done, I do say.

But, what does this Black Bird Guitar have to do with anything? Well, it slowed us Birds down just enough to have a roadside meet-up with our two Fast French Friends. We decided we would picnick at the beach just a few miles south. We had waves, scrumptious mustard in our sandwiches and some refreshing white wine. Things were good. We chatted about family life and our bike adventures until it was time to ride. Along the ride, it was decided that instead of riding back to San Francisco as they had originally planned, the Fast French Friends would ride the rest of the way with us and stay at a nearby resort. Fun!

The ride ahead was absolutely gorgeous. Steep hills meant for hard climbs but fantastic screaming descents along the ocean. We rode and we rode until we found our turnoff to Pescadaro State Park. As we turned off the highway a woman yelled alarmingly at us out of her car. “THE BEST ARTICHOKE SOUP YOU’VE EVER HAD!!! THE BEST!! THREE MILES DOWN THE ROAD. THE BEST ARTICHOKE SOUP YOU WILL EVER HAVE!! YOU HAVE TO GO!! THREE MILES!!!!!. Wow. Looking back, I wish we would’ve had that soup. I never yell after having soup. It must be good. I don’t even think I’ve ever raised my voice even a notch after having soup. It must be good.

We biked toward the soup spot, which we all thought was quite close to both our camp site and also to the Fast French Resort. Biking happily along the country rode we came to a realization. Somehow mileages had been skewed and the Fast French Friends were to stay another 10 miles south at Camp Cost-A-Lot. What to do. Well, if we were going to have our much deserved post ride brew, we had better all bike another 10 sunset miles and stay at the same nest. So, off we went, four Birds with flags and 100 pound loads and two Fast French Friends with spandex and bikes so light we lifted them with our pinkies.

If you could picture the six of us on our sunset ride, gliding breezily past eucylyptus forrests, words might come to mind like ‘relaxed’ or ‘calm’. If this was part of a Choose Your Own Adventure book, this would be one story direction. The six bikers rode happily fulfilled by their day’s ride into camp for a hearty meal and a solid slumber. That is not the direction our story took, however. Instead, our story-line brings to mind words like ‘hot-tub’, ‘beer’, ‘wine’, ‘fire’, ‘sauna’, ‘sleep deprivation’, and ‘laughing-until-your-guts-hurt’. Needless to say we had a blast. We were all reminded again of how often we meet and spend time with amazing, hilarious, and generous people on the road. All by happenstance and all welcomed with open Bird arms..er wings.

The next morning we were again living Goocher’s dream of ‘a new day’ as we gathered ourselves for our southbound journey of glory. Stay with us as we pedal into our next adventure and next friendship…

Lots of love to the road, our bikes, and our readers,

Elkmother.

>>>>>..<<<<<

J’aime Monter Mon Vélo

I do love to ride my bike. I have been thinking a great deal about the immeasurable pleasure I experience whilst propelling myself through the world. This tour enables me ample time to ponder long and strange avenues of thought, all from the saddle of my steed. I imagine the motion of the body, though it is not walking, could hold the same characteristics of peripatetics. While biking, the body’s movement welcomes new ideas and thought processes to develop and emerge.

One such idea sprouted on a much-anticipated ride for The Birds and I. We were finally heading south again, away from the energy and excitement of the big city lights that make San Francisco so alluring; we were heading south again on our bikes. I was feeling oh-so-good that I started thinking about how everyone must feel oh-so-good, while on a pedal-powered steed of his or her own. My mind couldn’t help but extrapolate my feelings of pedal bliss, to the realm of world peace. Now, this may seem naïve and idealistic, probably because it is, but I am comfortable with that.

I do believe that biking could be a tool or mechanism to alleviate much of the negativity in the world. A smile cannot be stopped when someone hops on a bike and a smile every day means improved and sustained emotional health. It can improve and maintain physical health. Biking also has the power to reconnect people and communities by simply being open in the world. Cycling also has the ability to contribute to local and rural economies by purchasing food from markets and café’s along the biker’s route. Instead of oil as a fuel, biker’s need food, human produced help (directions), water, and food. So, not only is a biker negotiating herself geographically without the use of oil, she is also contributing to the local food economy which she is biking in or through. Now, here’s where the extrapolation comes in. What if everyone biked? I don’t mean 10 minutes on Saturdays. I mean all the time or even 90% of the time!

We would have to slow down, quite literally, as the average bicycle speed is around 14km’s an hour. I believe we would be happier and healthier. Possibly flight travel would decline, and people would travel in a smaller radius of their place of habitation. This would contribute to local economy while also reducing the need to use oil for travel with flights and cars. People might be happier, distance may gain respect again, and physical health would be integrated into our lives instead of slotted into hour sessions at the gym.

I’ll wrap up my love letter to bikes with this: If world leaders had to ride their bikes to meetings, would their motivation to secure international oil fields seem like a good idea still? I think not.

Love,

Elkmother.  

Meanwhile….a Love Bird Is Head Over Heels in Frisco…

I was, literally, picked up where the other Birds continued on…from The Reggae fest. Lover Dylan was on day two of his mission to come and find Lover Lauren. Of all mornings to fly from Canada to meet me, it happened to be the morning we ended up sharing a campsite with some Seattle boys in the middle of a Reggae Fest in Humboldt County. Now, Lover Dylan has a tight relationship with time and deadlines. You see, Deadlines and Time seem to be the same thing to him, so I was not expecting a smiling bloke to emerge from the rental car after three canceled flights and numerous ignored scheduled departure times. But there it was, in the middle of a reggae fest, hangovers everywhere; Lover Dylan bounded out of the rental and was smiling. He was, in fact in a very splendid mood, which remained with him until his departure a few days later.

Lover Dylan had come for a visit and so with tears fueled by separation anxiety, The Birds’ Lauren would become Lover Lauren for the next few days. With my bike in the back of the rental, we drove off to Frisco with excitement in our bellies.

It so happened that cars are much too fast. This is no joke. There are really and truly too fast. The outside world rushes past with only a few instances able to reach the minds of the Car People. I remember a gorgeous river…the end of the Redwoods, the beginning of Sonoma County. The fast car was strange indeed. Passing through towns in under 5 minutes, I managed to capture a look at a used bookstore. I thought how The Birds would’ve spent three hours there. We would’ve poured a strong coffee down our throats and let our fingers linger through the insides of books until we absolutely had to push on for fear of Night Riding. As I said, cars are too fast. Roadkill is another story altogether. Maybe I’ll illustrate a book about Roadkill and release it when our documentary is out. Other animals think cars are too fast, too.

That in mind, The Lovers were able to wine taste some delicious fruits of labor on our way to San Francisco and still make it to The Big Smoke before dark. I do believe that by this point, Lover D was excited beyond words to get rid of the rental, to be in Frisco, and to have Lover L for a few days. We immediately were struck by the architecture and the Hills as we lugged our belongings through town to our home for the next few days.

Our nest was in a charming French boutique hotel with paintings of birds on all the walls and one of those elevators with the folding black gate. Our room had pillows!!, a bed!!, and a shower that didn’t take quarters!!! I was supremely content…oh, and Lover Dylan was in there too, to top it all off.

Through the next 60 hours or so, we walked and gawked, we ate and drank, and we clung to each other like lovers do when they first meet. It was a good time. We went to the MOMA and I developed tears in my eyes on three separate occasions. I think I had a tinge of culture shock, you see, because I had been in the woods for a month and a half….and then Boom!, I’m in Frisco staring at a Rothko.

The visit came and went at whirlwind speed, and all of a sudden I was saying goodbye to Lover Dylan Just off Market Street. I realized I did not want him to go. As he descended out of sight to the BART, I was left on the sidewalk with my bike and about 30 minutes to navigate myself from my puddle of tears to Marin County for a Bird Reunion. I couldn’t ride for the first few blocks because I had the waterworks turned on like nobody’s business. A blubbering idiot is probably what I looked like. After a few blocks, I was ok, thank the land, and was able to hop on my bike and boot it to Fisherman’s Wharf to try and figure out which boat would take me over to Tiburon.

I found a boat, and it was grand. I put my bike below and sat in the sun atop a fast boat and drank a good beer. I felt like I just may be on vacation. Once off the ferry, I asked around and figured out how to bike to The Birds. With the sun on my back, my bike beneath me, and the smell of eucalyptus guiding me along the road…I knew I was back. Lauren the Bird rolled up to a gorgeous garden and home filled with The Birds and The Wonderful hosts, Hilde and Jimmy.

– Love Elkmother

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Honey, The Beauties, Bliss, and Lamb on a Big Sharp Knife

I had an edited and organized written piece to express my experiences and thoughts regarding our visit to Tule Fog Farm in Arcata, California. It meandered through ideas of urban culture and rural culture and their formal characteristics. It discussed how both the urban and rural have positive attributes that aid the creation of a culture where Truths can be revealed. Truths such as sincere happiness, community interdependence, and ethical relations with the Earth can be fostered in both cultures. This piece of writing became, for me, very messy and wordy. It glazed over the simplicity and purity of my experience at Tule Fog Farm. I want to write a window of time, light, space, smell, and energy interaction in clear manner. I feel much clearer than I write, though. So, please, when reading this post, keep in mind that the people, animals, and space are more sincere, True, happy, healthy, generous, and glowing than my skills of word will allow me to convey. Double my words or triple them.

Seven months ago, The Birds were sitting with our dear friends Mello and Joel at The Birds House in Vancouver, BC. Joel mentioned he had a friend who lived in Humboldt County who was interested in sustainable housing, food production, …and that we should visit him and his wife. So, we did. We rode our bikes through Arcata in Northern California, only getting lost once along the way. We rode with squinted eyes and alert senses, trying to capture any signs of our destination. The sign was a rather brilliant one. It was Sean in his front yard. Now, Sean is no regular human being. He is a human that literally glows. After time on the farm and meeting the rest of the family…I chalk it up to Shail’s milks, cheeses, and the honey, but that’s probably just the tip of it. He had outstretched arms, which were very long indeed. He’s over 6 ft with a long blonde braid reaching down his back. Eager to show us the land, we walked our awkward, heavy steeds through the garden and into the backyard. Here we were shown two pigs, the outdoor claw foot bathtub for stargazing, and how sheep’s wool is used in the garden beds for mulch.

This is also where we first met Shail. Now, when I met Sean, I was struck by the exuding health and radiance which he emitted…but now… another one!? Shail also had gorgeous and healthy long hair, beaming skin,..and the rest of it.! Though, the energy from Shail was the thing that stood out the most. Sean’s energy was that of playfulness, generosity, and openness. Upon meeting Shail, I quickly felt a different energy, one of extreme strength and calmness. She intrigued each one of us.

That evening we shared some of Shail’s delicious homemade goat’s cheese, honey-milk, artichokes from the garden, and bread from the bakery down the road.  Each evening, Shail walks down the road to her farm, Tule Fog Farm, to attend to her evening duties of moving water, food, animals,..and I’m sure more than I caught a hold of. The farm consisted of cows, pigs, sheep, goats, chickens, turkeys, and geese. The animals are grazed using the intensive rotation technique, which allows the animals to eat a varied and healthy diet while keeping the soil’s nutrients in tiptop shape. Most of the animals are moved daily, while some are moved every few days.

My morning began with what would become my fellow pig friend, snorting about outside the tent. The Birds were going to try and help Shail on the farm today. After an amazing breakfast of oats, honey from the farm, and milk from the farm, we were off to load the truck with water for the animals down the road. Once behind the wheel, I felt like I wanted to be a farmer. I was so content looking at the dust from the truck in the rearview mirror that I missed the turnoff to the farm. Ooops.! With Birds in tow…some beside me and some in the pick-up, we bumped along toward the middle of the land to find Shail.

The Birds are on a bike tour, and so, are sporting long underwear, sandals, wool socks, sore thighs, and goofy grins of splendor. All parts of the ensemble may have not been intrinsic to milking a goat, moving fences, or cattle, but all made it much funnier to watch. Shail demonstrated how to milk a goat and I thought I’d give it a go. Strange how I had been in some form consuming dairy products for 27 years and had never milked anything! Not one animal I had milked! After squirting milk on my leg and arm I thought I’d better let one of the other Birds have their hand at it, so to speak. After the ordeal, the goat seemed unharmed, and Shail said she’d have to cook with the milk because it was a dirty milk. So, it seemed that on the milking front, Shail had helped us more than we had helped her.

As curious ladies of the road, we were determined to try and help somehow. After trying to help Shail move fencing and animals with bumbling dexterity, we thought it would be a good idea to ‘help’ Shail move all of the cattle across their land toward a holding area for cows going to slaughter. I offered to take one dark and shiny cow. This turned out to be very awkward because Shail is so strong and, for lack of a better word, cool, and I at this time in my life was not. The cow took me in circles and it slammed its hoof down on my right foot three times in the same place. I tried to keep my face clear of pain and didn’t mention the throbbing feeling that now engulfed my right foot. I was keeping my cool. I think it worked because now I think Shail and I may be friends.

We eventually got the cattle safely away and the fences moved. Goats were milked and….but wait a minute…it was only noon! This, thank the land, left ample time in the afternoon for The Birds to actually help out. We cleaned out two chicken coops and then dusted them with diatomaceous earth to keep down the mites. We filled up the pick-up twice with chicken poop burritos! We wore snorkel masks and gloves and were so disgusting by the end of the task that we knew we had to have helped out for real this time.  Yes, Birds finally helped. That made us all feel much better and I think Shail and Sean were happy too.

That evening we had a dance party with Sean and their two amazingly beautiful children, Tule and Slate after we tried some of the farm lamb. After 9 years of vegetarianism, I ate a piece of lamb off of a big knife, extended by Sean. It was so foreign that I couldn’t really tell if it was ‘good’ or ‘tasty’. It was definitely exciting and I was happy as hell to try some of the meat that was being raised on the farm. The methods are beautiful. Shail aims for community engagement through healthy, organic, and sustainable food production. This was what prompted me to try the lamb.  The animals are treated with dignity and respect. Through intelligent farming methods, Shail is able to produce food for her family, while also securing time for her family and food production. Through farming and Sean and Shail’s amazing partnership, the household is one of a productive household, instead of a consuming one. Sean rides his bike to work and is able to bike home to have lunch with the kids and Shail. The daily tasks are hands on and create a life full of direct connections to the land, the food, each other, and the community.

The next morning after an interview with Shail, The Birds rode South full of inspiration and energized conversation. I fell in love with The Beauties…(Shail, Sean, Tule, and Slate) in only a few days. Thank you, Joel, for the heads up and thank you Shail, Sean, Tule, and Slate for opening your home, land, and numerous jars of milk and honey for The Birds.

Love, Elkmother.

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Puking, Astoria, and the Solstice Mini-Van

The birds made it over the bridge into the welcoming descent into Oregon. Whoop! Astoria is usually a quick food stop for me on surf trips south, but this was to be the most time any of have spent in the town. Everything was just swell, two of our spouses (Keith, and Danielle) had made it to Astoria also, so we were having another anniversary party. Keith is 30, but Oregonians think he is 20 so our party had to be postponed from a night at the bar to a morning at the Astoria Aquatic Center. There was a band (LionCo, fronted by our new friend Cabble), a water slide, a swimsuit (bike short) drier, and a hot tub…oh, and showers!! The day was designated as a rest day for all and we ate, drank beer, ate some more, and then reverted back to high school kids in the back parking lot.

The next morning would be the first morning that we would all actually ride together. We were all heading south with high hopes of new land under the ol’ bike tires. There was something wrong behind the scenes, though, or I should say behind the seams. My stomach was hard as a rock and getting bigger by the minute. I certainly didn’t feel like a person who could bike 60 miles, but sometimes that happens with our breakfast ‘punch’. This was not from too much quinoa, however. Everybody’s bikes were loaded…The Birds, Keith, Danielle, The Machine, and our new Scotsman friend….but where had I dashed off too? I had my head in the toilet upstairs in the hostel toilet splashing my insides out into the murky toilet water. I thought, while staring at someone else’s hardened pubic hair on the stained linoleum, that this was strange….the puking….but it probably would be fine. Just go down and bike. No problem. So I went downstairs….and then back to the toilet, and back down, and back to the toilet. This would deem to be a hurdle. How was I going to bike with everyone while my stomach was so obviously upset with me? Hmmmm. So, the birds sent me upstairs and there I lay by the window for two days in my sweat, dreading the next time I had to put my face so close to that toilet. Day two I watched the scene from TMNT (ninja turtles) where the injured turtle gets April’s attention for 45 seconds in the bathtub and it made me feel better.

….what happens next alarms us still. I have nightmares. I started wetting myself on a daily basis…well, no I didn’t actually, but it is rather strange to us still. We were now 3 days behind and since I had not been able to eat anything for these days of sweat and puke, I would need a few more to strengthen before hittin’ up the bike again. So we did what anybody would do on a bike/sustainability tour. We had a fellow named Daniel bring us a mini van, which we then rented for 24 hours. Yes, we did that. ..we drove into Portland to visit REI and our two friends Danielle and Keith and I picked up another sketchbook because I felt so weird…here is what I wrote.

And so it went that after two days of puking and sticky sleeping bags. Two days of the window getting light and dark and light and dark, again…The birds sped up the light, time, distance, and past and present memories. The time and distance machine is commonly referred to as a Chevrolet Town and County Tourer. It feels foreign and limiting, though its’ engine lets on that it creates freedom and aids self-expression. There is an innate happiness in the experience of biking. Time, trees, people, bugs, animals…they all become a part of you and how you connect with your surroundings. The Chevrolet speeds up so the good things are so fast, they are no longer there. They disappear under the glare of the windshield. The carpeted floor separates you from the earth which you are moving along and puts you in a very strange metal speed bullet. The birds are healthy again, but ‘happy’ will reclaim our hearts when the Chevie eats the dirt.

Love, Elkmother.

The Birds Get Married! – Port Townsend, June 11, 2011

Port Townsend was planned to be a mere blip in our trip…a sleep n’ a go..a chat n’ a chew..but it turned out to be much more than that. This was a tough place to leave for The Birds. We were gifted with some new friends, a farm visit, a marriage, and a calm place to sleep..with boxes of spotted bananas and too many dates to count.

It seems in the distant past, but The Birds were first ‘formally’ introduced to Danielle and Keith, a brother-sister combo of goodness, on the ride into Port Townsend from the ferry. Things seemed promising on the new friend frontier for the following reasons:

1. Keith has an ‘antennae’ on his helmet.
2. Danielle also just graduated; a double in anthro and photography.
3. The wanted to drink beer with us.
4. They also happened to be wearing too much spandex, were mounted on fellow steeds(bikes), and we seemed to be going in the same direction.
5. They smelt of mint and chocolate chip.

Driven by hunger of the food and beer variety, we ambled down the street to Sirens for some music and to meet up with the combo of goodness. Over really bad oyster shooters and really good stouts we hatched our plans for the next day…which had slyly turned into another day in town. It was laundry night, which was good on the smell front, but maybe not so good on the style front. That night The Birds slept in beds with pillows!! for the first time in 11 days! There were pillows for each birds, even!

We awoke with our new friends tucked between our feathers, nestled on the floor to a very busy day. Fueled by our morning bike convoy to Eat Too Much Breakfast, The Birds headed to check out the Farmer’s market and grab some local grub for our evening feast. We met camera-happy Paul from Sequim Lavender Co. who was a local grower and also inventor of lavender filled bandanas for people, horses, dogs, chickens, ….really, anything that has a neck. He adorned us with lavender packets and oils..which we wear and hang in our tents. It actually makes The Space Between Showers almost like a day at the spa.

We rode our steeds on over to The ReCyclery for some TLC and exciting bike hoopla. The workspace is all outside in a gorgeous space and the co-op is run on donations and volunteer power. Everyone was really helpful and Lily jazzed up Hose’s bike with a pink water bottle holder while Goocher finally got her spring happy pedal fastened down with the help of Chauncey. This was also the instigator of The Time the Safety Flags entered our lives. Never to be young or hip again, we fly the Safety Flags with proud admittance to our car paranoia and urge to live past this trip.

Micah, who not only volunteered at Recyclery, was a ‘Hunk’, but he also works at Collinwood Farm. He showed us around and introduced us to a co-worker who lived in the loft at the farm. We cleared out an old kale crop with the help of Oliver. Although Oliver was only 21/2 years old, he knew that he didn’t like John Deer. I had a strong urge to ‘adopt’ Oliver and take him on our trip to up our cuteness factor and to appease my ticking biological clock. Don’t worry, I didn’t put him in my pannier.

The Night The Birds Were Married

The house was set up on a hill, held strong by brick and filled our with art, a cowhide, and a big dining table. The Birds, Micah, Lily, Danielle, and Keith got married. Yes, it’s true. We had to have the Engagement dinner the same night as the wedding because, well, we just didn’t have that much time..and what they say is true. When you know, you know. So far, being married feels pretty good. I haven’t lost my freedom to travel and everyone seems to be ok with the hamsters nuzzled in my armpits. That night over Flat Tire Ale, the newlyweds talked about their imagined futures with Buttonhole jokes becoming a constant form of entertainment. Newleywed and time for bed, Birds rode off to Bed…

love, Elkmother…keep reading. It’s good for you.

Ferry Mission Complete. The Birds Head South..Successfully

Somehow, with all of our saved up luck in our pockets, we managed to catch not one, but two ferries in one day! This is incredible, considering Goocher’s chain jumping ship, The Birds’ ability to become distracted by almost anything, ferries happen to be on a tight schedule and On Time, and back to the second point of  The Birds’ ability and ease at which distraction takes hold and times slips by. The day was early and our first long ride, which did indeed appease our restless legs. Biking, biking, biking. Heading south through Anacortes and Whidbey, we came upon Deception Pass. This would mark the start of our car paranoia and also brought forth the inner NerdSafetyCape in us all. Perfect. The ride itself was exciting with the traffic, twisting roads, and lush forests. With the help of our roadside saviour, Victoria, we were nudged south by time and a fast approaching ferry departure to Port Townsend. Hours rolled past and the sky darkened, giving us all a very large hint that we needed to pump our legs a little faster. Almost to the ferrie with worried expressions on our faces, we passed a small huddle of fellow bike tourers just off our route. We waved and honked and they waved back. Little did we know, they would become part of The Birds Family in only a few hours. Alas!, we made it to the ferrie, namely because reason number two (above:ferries happen to be on a tight schedule and On Time) did not occur at this time. Exhausted and hungry, the birds devoured muffins that were definitely fermenting and veggie patties that tasted like Thanksgiving stuffing. Brilliant.

The Steeds right before crossing the Death Bridge aka Deception Pass.

 

The Birds wondering how we got here and why we want to bike across The Death Bridge. Love, Elkmother and the Birds. more to come……!

Bird Nesting and Island Timing. The Birds Have Flown the Coop

Hello and Happy Summer! There was indeed a small hiccup in the birds’ departure from Vancouver, but alas the four Birds are together again. It feels good. It feels oh soo good! We spent some decompression time on Mayne Island..sleeping with sheep, roosters, and three cows (Rose and Oliver were my favourites).  A lovely man named Manny generously let us pitch our tents in a patch of wispy young trees near his King apple orchard. Gorgeous land!
Manny and his wife Alexis had met at a cob building project down in Baja, some time ago on a bike adventure of their own! It so happened Jurgen and Judith, or “The Tinkerers”, also lived on Mayne Island and they were the founders of the cob project in Baja. So,..we called them! We said, “Hello, we are the birds on bikes..can we speak with you?”. Four hours later we were all close to tears rolling away from their house on our trusty steeds. They were full of wisdom, travelling tales, inspiration, and some of the best life advice I have yet to hear.
Love, Elkmother.

Pre Trip Bike Workshop/Pizza Cook-Off/Tyler’s Awesome Cram Session.  Intense concentration mixed with three delicious beers equals excellent and reliable bike mechanic knowledge.

Look wayyyyy back, past the ferns and the grass and the box with the names. Past the fence and the king apple trees..and there! That is the place where the birds lay their heads:)

 

The entrance to night one on the adventure. Tres inviting!

Hunter emerging from her slumber to find Rose and Oliver enjoying some greens for brekkie. We fed them and Haley rubbed their heads. I decided I was happy I don’t eat them or their friends.

 

With the help of our crash course bike mechanic workshop, Josie and Elkmother attempt to fix some tight ass brakes! …oh, and this was about hour 4 of the trip.

 

Edith Point, Mayne Island. On a mission for ocean-side espresso. Meeting Goocher in T-45 minutes. It’s tight. Very, very tight.

 

Jurgen, Hose, Elkmother, and Judith. The Tinkers use the herbs behind us for their medicinal and healing concoctions which they kindly share at markets and personal encounters. Brilliant souls, these two. Just brilliant!

Aaannnnd, the birds must fly again. Spot nombre uno! Bon Voyage! Love, Elkmother.